


and no one is around to hear it

by Shespitsfire



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Complete, Consequences of One Night Stands, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Neglect, One Shot, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, child out of wedlock, not part of The After, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 12:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shespitsfire/pseuds/Shespitsfire
Summary: The past that comes back to haunt them is not the one they expected.





	and no one is around to hear it

**Author's Note:**

> This little idea was buzzing around in my brain all night last night, so I wrote it out today.

Shippo almost missed the kid entirely.

For the last thirty minutes of his walk, he’d been entirely lost in his own thoughts. The last couple of miles until he reached Kaede’s village always went like that; no demons dared to come so close to where Inuyasha and his wife now resided, so the kitsune was free to space out entirely as he strolled the path that criss-crossed through meadow and field. He had already rounded the corner before pausing. His nose twitched, and he doubled back. 

There--a lump, swathed in dark clothing, was crouched in the grass. The boy’s hair was dark, too, and long for his age. Shippo guessed he was only a couple of years older than Miroku and Sango’s twins. Which was far too young to be wandering around without an adult. 

Puffing up his chest, he strode over to where the kid sat, puzzling over a map. 

“Need any help?” 

“Huh?” The boy looked up; to him, Shippo’s twelve years must have looked quite mature, for he immediately reached up to grab the kitsune’s hand. “Is there a town down that way? This map’s really hard to read...” 

“You’re in luck! My friends live in a town that’s on the other side of the fields. Here!” Turning, Shippo bent down to present his back. “Climb on, it’ll be faster this way!” 

The boy beamed with relief. Shippo suddenly had a strange feeling. Not a _bad _feeling, but like there was some kind of memory out of his reach. 

As they started off, he asked, “Have you ever been to Kaede’s town?” 

“Nuh-uh.” The boy rested his chin on top of Shippo’s head. “I used to live in a house really, _ really _far away. But then my mom died, and they didn’t want me to stay there.” 

Shippo almost dropped the kid in surprise. What kind of villagers would send away a little kid like this, not even big enough to fend for himself? It sounded a lot like the stories Rin would tell about her past life, and he thanked the gods that he’d gone back up the road. Who knew what could have happened otherwise! 

“It’s okay,” the boy sighed, noting Shippo’s concerned shock. “I’m on a quest anyway.” 

“Ooh, neat! My friends are really good at that kinda stuff. Maybe we can help you!” 

The boy’s stomach rumbled against his back, and Shippo wondered when the last time that he’d eaten was.

“Is there a temple in your town? With monks in it?”

“Uh, there’s a shrine, but it’s mostly cared for by priestesses. But I can take you to Miroku’s!” 

“Really?” The boy tested the name in his mouth. “Miroku…”

“Yeah, he’s a monk. If we go by his house, he should have lunch for us too!” Just the thought made Shippo’s feet move faster. The summer had brought quite a few slayer missions Sango’s way, and the increase in money had resulted in delicious spreads for her family. Which Shippo considered himself to be part of, of course. There was always room for one more at the table, right?

* * *

When they made it into town, he headed straight for Sango and Miroku’s house. The twins were nowhere to be seen outside, meaning that lunch had most likely already started. Letting the boy jump off of his back, Shippo tapped loudly on the door.

“Ah, Shippo. We were wondering if you’d come by!” Miroku smiled widely at the two on his front step. From behind him, the kitsune could see Keiko and Emi digging into bowls of something warm and spicy, while Sango wiped her toddler son’s face with a rag. Kilala pretended to nap quietly in the corner, though one eye slit open at the sound of the door opening.

The boy stepped forward, staring at Miroku’s robes with awe. The monk smiled at the child and said pleasantly, “And who is this?”

Shippo realized he’d never asked the kid’s name. That didn’t matter, however, for in the next moment the boy had thrown both arms around Miroku’s waist, tears streaming down his face. 

“Dad, it’s you!”

The room was silent for all of a second, before erupting into chaos. 

The boy clung to Miroku’s robes, repeating, “Dad, _ Dad!” _over and over again. Baby Mushin’s wailing had nothing to do with his pale, sputtering father at the front door, but it seemed to reflect the confused panic erupting in Shippo’s chest. Sango’s face had gone completely passive, which anyone who knew her could recognize as her way of hiding trouble from her daughters. Kilala jumped up and ran to her mistress’ side, mewling. 

Keiko set her bowl down on the table and shouted in her bossiest voice, “No, he’s _ our _Dad!” 

“Miroku,” Sango said. Her voice carried some kind of warning, although it felt more brittle than usual. Just the sound of it seemed to chill the room. 

“Let’s go outside,” Miroku managed to say in a strangled voice. Quickly he used both knees to usher the boy out of the doorway; Shippo followed close behind, anxiety swelling in his chest. 

“I thought I wasn’t gonna find you! I searched a lot, see?” One hand freed itself from the monk to dig out the map from the boy’s sleeve. He waved it at the man vigorously. “I’ve been _ everywhere _!” 

Miroku continued to push the boy along, not responding to his words. Noticing his silence, the boy’s face fell. 

Somehow, they made it to a field a little ways away from the village houses. Shippo cringed uneasily as he saw Kagome and Rin on a picnic blanket in the grass, sorting a huge pile of herbs. 

“Ladies,” Miroku said; only those who knew him for a long time would have been able to tell something was wrong. “Rin, might you leave us for a moment? I need Lady Kagome for something.” 

The girl nodded, dusting her kimono off as she stood. As she walked away, Kagome’s eyebrows knit together in concern, especially when she saw the now-pouting boy. 

“Miroku, who’s this?” 

“I’m Hiro,” the boy mumbled, ignoring her outstreched hand. The priestess looked up at Miroku with questioning eyes. 

The monk seemed to age several years in a single sigh. “He claims to be my son.” 

“_Eh?” _

“I am!” The kid protested hotly, head darting back and forth between Miroku and Kagome. “Mom told me that my dad was a monk, and that he left before I was born!” 

“They do look kinda alike,” Shippo pointed out quietly. Words he would have never spoken if Sango had been there--oh, what was Sango thinking right now? Maybe he should go back, just to see if she was okay. Especially if the twins were asking her questions. 

“What was your mother’s name? And do you remember what year you were born?” Kagome looked remarkably calm as she studied the boy. Internally, she noted that his hair and eye color did indeed resemble her friend. But that didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, did it? Miroku’s features weren’t exactly unique. 

“My mom? Her name was Hatsumi. The house we lived in was by a big mountain. I don’t know the year numbers, but I’m seven.” 

“Okay.” Nodding, Kagome turned to the monk. “Miroku?” 

The way his face twisted wasn’t exactly a good sign. 

* * *

Kohaku had only thought to stop by his sister’s home that afternoon by chance; one sleeve of his slayer’s outfit was torn, somehow, and he wanted her advice on how to properly mend it. But from the eerily calm expression she wore when he entered the dwelling, he knew immediately something was the matter. 

Bowls from lunch sat out, turning cold. Usually Sango would immediately throw the scraps outdoors, not wanting the house to be infested with bugs. Also, though the girls were playing demon-attack outside, Sango sat indoors by the window, watching them with one hand pressed to her cheek and the other rubbing her sleepy son’s back. 

“Sister?” Kohaku settled beside her. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” she said, much too quickly. “Hey, would you mind watching the little ones for a while?” She nodded towards the window. The girls’ playful hollering could be heard loud and clear as they ran across the small patch of dirt outside. Kohaku scooped up Mushin, laying the heavy toddler across his chest.

“Where are you going?” 

“Just need a break for a moment.” His sister brushed her hair back with both hands, and he saw the mask slip just a bit. Clearly, she was deeply anxious about something. 

“Okay. Hurry back soon.” Though he didn’t usually like to assume, Kohaku couldn’t help but wonder if she was pregnant again. That would certainly be something to worry about, what with how many jobs had been coming their way currently. Despite his own talents in the slayer profession, Sango was more experienced and thus in high demand--and she’d only just become more comfortable leaving Mushin for multiple days at a time to work. Another baby would surely throw a wrench into that. 

It was, however, not something he was going to ask directly about. Instead, he offered her his kindest smile. She managed a tiny one in reply before leaving the house with Hiraikotsu on her shoulder. Kilala bounded after her. 

As soon as she was far enough into the woods that no one else could hear, Sango slung the boomerang into the nearest tree with a shout. 

_ That stupid, _ ** _stupid_ ** _ man, _ she thought furiously, dodging the shower of splinters as the bone made contact with its target. _ He should have prepared me for this. Running around for years, asking every woman he meets to bear his child…and now one comes knocking at the door. _

_ In front of _ ** _my_ ** _ babies. _

The wounds of his past lechery had closed over long ago. Or so she thought. Now, Sango felt like she was sixteen again, watching the man she loved dance around a crowd of village women as though Death was just over his shoulder, waiting.

_ But he didn’t die, did he? We all survived, thinking now we could have a chance to be happy. Starting a family... _

Catching the boomerang as it swung back, she drove the end down on a fallen branch. Kilala jumped into the bushes at the noise, still keeping a watchful eye on her mistress. The scream of breaking wood mirrored the vindicating burn in Sango’s back muscles. _ I should have warmed up first. Ah, too late now. _

_ Too late now... _

When the branch was nothing but dust, and a deep depression marred the forest floor, she swung the weapon out again. Hot tears mixed with the sweat that ran down her neck. 

_ He told me he’d been with others. _

_ I knew, and I still fell in love with him. And him with me. _

Bone cracked against wood, and she held both arms up for the inevitable return. 

_ It only makes sense that something like this could happen--that was his whole goal back then, wasn’t it? To have a son? _

With a grunt, the tree toppled to the ground, pieces flying in all directions. Sango wrapped both arms around Hiraikotsu and used it to hold herself up.

Then she cried. 

* * *

“Hatsumi was the niece of a village noble. I met her when I was sixteen; Monk Mushin took me with him to try exorcising a demon in her village, and that’s how we met.” Miroku neglected to look at the boy sitting on the picnic blanket a few yards away. Shippo had tried to smooth things over a bit by showing Hiro the herbs that Kagome and Rin had started sorting; the two boys now worked quietly while the adults talked. “When she heard about the curse, she was horrified, and took it upon herself to comfort me. We weren’t in love, and I never knew that she had actually gotten pregnant. Goodness, I haven’t even thought about her in years...” 

“Maybe there’s still a chance this is a mistake. If he’s really your son, wouldn’t he have ended up with the Wind Tunnel?” Kagome twisted the edge of her hakama in both hands. “Even when Naraku’s death broke the curse, it would have been on him for a few years. That’s not something that would have escaped anybody’s notice, especially as the son of an unmarried woman, right?” 

“The wind tunnel didn’t appear in my hand until I was thirteen.” The monk stared at his palm, eyes tracing the smooth lines. “There was no way Hatsumi could have proven he was mine.” His hand curled into a fist, as the memories of the long-forgotten woman flooded to his mind. 

_ She’d been young woman the same age as he--or maybe even a year older, although she was so fair and slim that it was hard to tell. Even her hair was a pale, mousy brown, hanging limply around her face as she gazed at him curiously. _

_ “Monk Miroku, why do you talk about death so easily? You’re so young!” _

_ “I’m afraid I’m doomed to leave this Earth early, Lady Hatsumi. And unless I have vanquished him before then--though the odds are slim--my revenge on the scoundrel which is the cause of my misfortune will die with me.” _

_ Her eyes were the size of saucers. He wondered if she enjoyed hearing such morbid things, as long as it meant some kind of adventure. The kind she would never see. Upon their first meeting, she declared that she had no intentions of ever marrying or leaving her town, as it would mean her dear old uncle (at that, he and Monk Mushin had held back a snort) would be all alone. _

_ “Oh, Monk Miroku, is there anything that can be done?” _

_ “Well, perhaps there is one thing…” _

“Shippo said that Hatsumi has passed away, and Hiro was told to leave his village.” Kagome’s tone remained compassionate, but her words still burned with urgency. “He doesn’t have anyone else.” 

Miroku gave her a helpless look. “Kagome, please. I haven’t even spoken to Sango--” 

“Knowing her, she probably wants to be alone right now.” The priestess sighed heavily. She didn’t want to think about how her friend was dealing with this--if Inuyasha suddenly had a child show up at their door, she knew she’d be having all kinds of questions and issues with it. “But nothing about this is Hiro’s fault. Maybe the two of you can stay with us, while we figure everything out? I’m sure Inuyasha won’t mind.”

Miroku’s head bowed, and she was flooded for a moment with concern. Finally, he said in a much-too-calm voice, “All right.” 

“It’s not a punishment, Miroku. Just...giving everyone time to think.” 

* * *

Shippo acted as messenger, going back to Miroku’s house; he returned with Sango’s agreement for Miroku’s temporary absence, as it was the best option for Hiro. The news only seemed to weigh the monk’s shoulders further; despite Kagome’s best attempts to cheer him up, he simply sat in the courtyard like a stone Buddha. 

“I live here with my husband, Inuyasha. He’s a half-demon!” The priestess explained to the dark-haired boy, showing him around the former inn that she had fashioned into a home. “He can be a little gruff sometimes, but he’s actually very nice.” 

“Lady Kagome?” The boy crossed him arms behind his back. “Um, why isn’t my dad happy to see me?”

Oh, shoot. “Well...he hasn’t talked to your mom in a really, really long time. So he didn’t know you were searching for him. It’s just a little surprising, to meet you for the first time.”

“Does he want me to leave?” Hiro’s eyes filled with resignation, and Kagome was overwhelmed with the urge to pull the child into a hug and never let go. 

“Look, Hiro. Things are just a little complicated right now. But I can promise you that you can stay in the village as long as you want, no matter what.” Perhaps it was a foolish thing to promise the illegitimate son of one of her best friends, but what was she supposed to say? The kid was the same age that Shippo had been when they’d first met; Kagome knew that, despite his shock, Miroku wouldn’t want any harm to come to him. “Say, why don’t you go give your dad some tea? Rin usually brews some for us around this time.” 

The boy sighed and nodded. The way he poured and then carried the tea seemed practiced--Kagome wondered, troubled, who had been using this _ seven-year-old _ as a servant. 

* * *

“Dad?” 

He startled, wishing that moniker would stop making his head swim. He _ loved _being a father, more than he perhaps had expected. It would be terrible to allow even a situation such as this to taint that. 

Hiro held out the tea cup to him, head bowed. 

“Oh, thank you.” Miroku cleared his throat, taking the cup. After a moment, he patted the seat beside him. The boy smiled eagerly as he settled in.

“Hiro,” Miroku started, wondering where to begin with this. _ He’s so young, I can’t tell him he was the product of a loveless one night stand motivated only by vengeance against a higher being. _“Um...what did Lady Hatsumi tell you about me, exactly?”

The boy scratched his arm with one hand; Miroku’s parental instincts made a mental note that the kid needed a serious bath. 

“Well, she said that my dad was a monk that came to her village one day to save everybody from a monster. She said that, even though she didn’t know him well, he was smart and brave and honorable. And that she hoped someday he’d come back so we could meet each other.” Hiro ducked his head to look at the ground. “She thought he’d be really happy to meet me, because it meant he fulfilled his quest.” 

“I see.” Miroku took a long sip, hiding his panic as much as possible. It seemed to work, for the boy remained at ease beside him. “The quest that she mentioned is, in fact, complete. The men in my family were cursed horribly, but the being that’s responsible is long-dead.”

“Really?” The smile on the boy’s face almost hurt to look at. “That’s great!”

“I would have liked to tell your mother myself. I am truly sorry that she is gone.” 

The smile faded into sadness; Hiro nodded.

“After the curse was broken, I was no longer trapped to pass it along to my male heirs.” _ Like you. _“My wife, Sango, was one of my comrades in battle. She and I settled down here with our other friends. Had I known that you existed, I would have gone to you first.” 

The words, honest as they were, didn’t seem to sting the boy as Miroku thought they would. That was good, at least; that he didn’t appear angry at his father’s accidental neglect. Miroku pressed on. 

“It is hard to explain, but I am not the same man I was when I met your mother. I hope that the man I am now is better. So,” Miroku took another deep sip to calm his nerves. “I would like to get to know you. Not as the man I was, but as the man I am today.” 

“Okay.” The intensity of the moment seemed largely lost on the child, who smiled again. “Will I get to know Lady Sango, too?”

“I cannot speak for her.” _ Or what she will allow for the other children, _he thought with a pang. “We will just have to wait and see. In the meantime, tell me about yourself.” 

From the look of pure joy on Hiro’s face, Miroku wondered if anyone had ever asked him such a question before. Where had his son grown up, that something so basic was a treasure? 

* * *

“You’re _ kidding.” _Inuyasha gasped. 

“Nope, it’s really his son!” Shippo jumped up and down. All the excitement had his energy level sky-rocketing. As soon as Kagome had told him he could leave, he’d sped off as fast as he could to find Inuyasha to clue him in. This was, after all, the most dramatic thing that had happened since Kagura turned out to be not-dead (and also sort of Sesshomaru’s girlfriend?); it would be cruel to leave the hanyou out of it. 

“That fucking idiot.” Inuyasha shook his head slowly, claws tapping his chin. “He should have seen somethin’ like this coming.” 

“Hey, he didn’t know that he was going to marry Sango!” 

“Well, then he should have made an educated guess. He goes around sleeping with _ whole towns’ _worth of girls for a couple’a years, and he thinks nothing’s gonna come of it?” 

Shippo had to admit that, put that way, Hiro’s appearance was rather less shocking. “What do you think he’s going to do, Inuyasha? Hiro wants to stay in the village so they can be a family.”

“Nuh-uh!” At the kitsune’s feverish nod, Inuyasha swore. “I guess he’s got no choice. Miroku might be a lot of things, but he’s not gonna abandon his own kid just like that…”

Shippo’s expression turned mischievous. “Maybe you and Kagome could adopt--”

“Stop sayin’ stuff like that!” The hanyou swiped at the kitsune, who easily dodged the blow. “I told you, how long we wait to have kids is none of ya business. Anyway, it seems like there’s more than enough runnin’ around in this village now…” 

“Inuyasha, you don’t think that he’s going to leave Sango, do you?” The kitsune’s smile melted off his face at the troubling thought. Likewise, his friend’s eyes narrowed in concern as he grimaced. 

“He better not, especially if it’s some kind of self-sacrificing bullshit because he’s embarrassed over this. We should go talk him out of it, just in case that’s what he’s thinkin’.” 

“Okay. I think he’s still at your house…”

* * *

After a while, Kagome called Hiro into the house for a meal and a bath. It had definitely not escaped her notice either that the child was not well cared for; Miroku was grateful for the interruption, as it gave him a moment to breathe. 

A very short-lived moment, for as soon as the boy was gone Inuyasha plopped down next to him. 

“So you’re a dad again, huh?” 

The look he received in response was quite unpleasant. Rolling his eyes, the hanyou snapped, “Hey, I’m not trying to fuck around with ya. There’s no good way to start that conversation!” 

“Inuyasha, I’m not really in the mood right now.” 

“Is there any mood where you’d wanna talk about it?” Bumping his shoulder with one fist, the hanyou huffed. “Look, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like stuff like this hasn’t hap--”

Two hands fisted themselves in Inuyasha’s haori; Miroku’s teeth grit only a few inches from his face. “_This isn’t like the other times, Inuyasha!” _

That had just been flirting, him asking the damn question, or using wandering hands to get some rise out of the girl he liked.

It hadn’t been an entire _ person _brought into the world. 

“I have a family now!” His words became more frantic as he tightened his grip on the hanyou’s shirt. “I could lose Sango, or my children! My children...how am I supposed to explain to them the man I used to be? They aren’t old enough to understand! It wasn’t just debauchery, it was preservation--wanting something momentarily beautiful in a ugly, horrific, violent world--”

“_Calm down, already _!” Claws closed around his wrists, maneuvering his arms back to his side. “No one’s gonna tell your kids you used to be a lech, alright? And Sango’s gonna get over it.” 

Miroku barked a hollow laugh before turning away. Straightening the now-wrinkled red fabric, Inuyasha sighed. “Take it from someone with a half-sibling; your kiddos could have it much worse. From what Shippo said, your son sounds pretty normal. He just needs a place to go.” 

When his friend didn’t respond, Inuyasha changed tactics. “Ain’t it weird. The whole time we were searching for Naraku, he was out there somewhere. If you hadn’t broken the curse, his hand would’a had the void in it, too.” He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “He’s lucky that he found you.” 

Silence stretched for a moment before the monk broke it. “I want to be there for him. His mother died of an illness two years ago, and his great-uncle made him earn his keep through housework since then. He decided to run away because someone else got hired to keep the estate, and he was worried they’d sell him.”

“Shit.” Inuyasha crossed both arms. “Sounds like he came to the right place, then.” 

Miroku’s forehead creased. “You really think that this will work out?”

“I’m no fortune-teller.” Fangs glinted in a grin. “But I’ve known ya for a long time, and if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s talking yourself out of trouble so that it works out for everyone--” 

He hadn’t been expecting the monk to hug him. Arms waving, Inuyasha grumbled, “Alright, alright, just don’t cry on me, oka--oh, you’re already doing it. Well, okay. There, there?” 

* * *

Someone knocked on the door. Hiro looked up from where he was making a second pot of tea. His cheeks were still pink from his bath, and though the clothing that Lady Kagome had brought him was strange, it was much more comfortable than what he’d arrived to town in. 

“Come in.” 

The woman he’d seen in the house before stood in front of him, breathing heavily. Sweat stained the neck of her kimono. On her back she was carrying the biggest boomerang he’d ever seen. 

Her cheeks flamed as soon as she saw him. 

“I was, um, looking for Kagome. Sorry--”

“She had to run out. But my dad’s still here,” Hiro called, watching her freeze in the hallway. “You could talk to him.” 

Slowly, she turned around. The look on her face reminded him a little bit of his mother, even though this lady didn’t share her features. Adults called the emotion _ pity _, but it was mixed with something else he didn’t know the word for yet. 

“My name’s Hiro,” he said, because it seemed like the right thing to say. “Are you Lady Sango?” _ My father’s wife? _

With a sigh, she set the boomerang against the wall. It looked really heavy; he wondered how long and far she could carry it without asking for help. “Yes. That’s me.” 

He gestured to the tea kettle. “Would you like some?”

For a moment, he thought she was going to run away. But then, with a softening in her eyes, Sango walked over and sat cross-legged on the floor. “If you don’t mind.”

She studied the boy as he made the tea, tongue poking from the side of his mouth in concentration. He acted both years older and a bit younger than his age; something about him reminded her of Kohaku, when he was still a boy. Her stomach churned. 

“Hiro,” she said, trying to remember if she knew anyone else with that name. “I’m sorry for not greeting you when we met, earlier. I was...surprised.” 

“Lady Kagome said that.” Smiling, he handed her a steaming cup. “It’s okay. You’re here now.” 

_ That I am. _She took a sip, burning the tip of her tongue, rather than risk letting herself say anything else. 

“Lady Sango, what’s my dad like?” Hiro set the kettle down gently, arms straining a little at the weight of it. “My mom told me some stuff about him, but that was a long time ago. So maybe he’s not like that anymore.”

Sango tapped one finger against the side of the cup. Finally, she looked up to make eye contact with the young boy. 

“I don’t know what your mother said. But as for your father...for as long as I have known him, he has been very brave, even when things are hard. He’s clever; sometimes too clever for his own good. But he cares deeply about people, and he always tries his best to make sure that everyone around him remains safe and well loved.” She took a hurried gulp of tea, burning the rest of her mouth, before she could cry in front of this child. “He’s a great husband and an even better father.” 

“Really?” Hiro looked relieved. He was about to say something else when Sango stood. 

“Thank you for the tea. Is he out there?” She gestured towards the courtyard, and at his nod, walked briskly out the door. 

He called out “Goodbye, Lady Sango,” but it wasn’t clear if she heard. 

* * *

Inuyasha had let him cry for a little while before finally making an excuse to leave. Still, it had been nice to release some of the pent-up emotions from the day. Miroku only wondered who would be next to visit him in his courtyard of self-pity. 

Her footfall gave her presence away. The monk’s head whipped around so fast she thought he would hurt himself. “Sango?” 

“Miroku.” She settled beside him, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Are Kagome and Inuyasha letting you stay tonight?” 

“They are.” He cleared his throat loudly. 

Sango sighed. “I wanted to say--”

“I’m sorry.” His face was so broken, it stunned her. His hands grasped hers, wrapping them in warmth. “I never meant for something like this to happen. I didn’t think it ever would--I didn’t know that I would find you, and_ love _ you, or live long enough to--”

His voice trembled, and Sango was struck with how much she wanted to pull him into her embrace. His forehead dropped onto their folded hands. 

“I love you, and our children, with everything I am. This is my fault, for being the kind of man who dishonors his family.” 

“It’s not like you cheated,” she found herself saying. “You hadn’t even met me yet, when he was conceived.”

His head lifted; the defeat in his eyes drilled straight into her bones. 

“I cannot leave him. He has no one to care for him, and I now hold that responsibility. That is not the case with you, Sango--I won’t ask it of you.” 

She opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head hard. “I _ cannot _ask it of you. I will explain to the girls, and Mushin, when he is old enough to understand. I will make a home for Hiro and I somewhere else in the village. Please, whatever else I can do to make this as easy as possible for you, just say the word--”

“Don’t leave.” Her hands broke from her husband’s grasp to cup his face. “I came here to tell you that I wasn’t keeping them from you. I just needed time to think.” She took a shuddering breath. “And after I thought about it, I knew that this doesn’t change how I feel about you.” 

“Sango--” 

“Please,” she interrupted, stroking his cheek with one thumb. “I don’t know if you should come home yet, or what’s going to happen. What the right thing to do is. It’s just--” She stammered for a moment, before her words fell to a whisper. “He has your _ eyes. _” 

Miroku pulled her to him, burying his face in her shoulder. 

Sango held on. 

From the kitchen, Hiro watched his father and his father’s wife embrace. She wasn’t much like his mother at all--he wondered if Hatsumi would have liked her, had they met. If they would have been friends. 

He hadn’t thought that his father would be married when he found him. Or that Hiro himself would have any siblings. What did one do with sisters, or a little brother? Would he treat them the same way that Shippo had, when they’d come across one another on the road? 

Maybe it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a _ real _ brother, was he? Just like his great-uncle had always told him he wasn’t a _ real _ member of the family, having been born without a father to claim him. 

His father clearly loved this woman very much. 

Hiro didn’t want to ruin that.

* * *

Kagome had been the one to suggest that Shippo introduce Hiro to his half-sisters during their playtime. Emi and Keiko still seemed a bit confused about the situation, but they were fine with letting the new boy join their games. Miroku himself carried all the worry in the world; Sango hadn’t objected to the plan, but they still hadn’t discussed what their relationship would look like now. 

For now, he followed the group around town, trying to seem inconspicuous as he waited for an inevitably dangerous question to fall from one of his daughters’ lips. Shippo gave him multiple dirty looks meant to indicate that everything was fine (the hanyou was certainly rubbing off on him), but Miroku couldn’t allow himself to relax. It felt like any moment, everything would come crashing down, and he would lose the bliss of the past few years. 

For one troubling thing, Hiro seemed remarkably drawn; whether it was that he was simply overwhelmed due to all the new faces and names, or because of something else, Miroku didn’t know. He didn’t know the child well enough yet to tell. 

A commotion at the village entrance got the group’s attention. Keiko, always the ringleader, dipped under Shippo’s arm and ran for the crowd. The kitsune yelped and followed, Hiro and Emi at his heels. Miroku could see over their heads that a grumpy-looking old man, draped in finery, was tapping his foot in front of a sour-looking Kohaku. 

“I told you, there are many children in the village, we can’t just drag them all out and line them up so you can inspect them for--” 

As they neared the entrance, Hiro froze in his tracks, nearly tripping Emi as she came up behind him. The man turned and met the young boy’s eyes with a poisonous sneer. 

“Hiro! There you are, you little rat. Get over here now,” The old man snarled. Now that he was close enough, Miroku recognized the face, despite the years that had passed; Hatsumi’s uncle. A bitter old man, who had been easily taken in by Monk Mushin’s spun tales, so careless he had been about where his money went. This was the man who had been taking care of his son.

In the loosest sense of the words. 

Hiro took a mechanical step forward, face smoothing into a practiced frown. Miroku’s hand immediately went to his shoulder to stop him; before he could say anything, however, two little girls jumped in front of the man. 

“Leave our big brother alone!” Keiko yelled. Miroku’s heart swelled with pride. 

“Yeah, bozo!” Emi stuck her tongue out at the man, tiny hands on her hips. “Big brother is going home with us!” 

Kohaku’s eyes bugged before glancing towards Miroku and Hiro in quick succession. The taijiya hid his surprise well, stepping forward to accompany his nieces in shielding the boy.

The man’s lip curled. “Hiro, I said _ now. _ Don’t make me come over there. _ ” _

“He’s just a kid, leave him alone!” Shippo himself glared at the man, speaking with as much authority as he could muster. Hiro’s shoulder quaked under Miroku’s grip. 

“Watch that tongue, boy,” the old man snapped, narrowing his eyes at the kitsune. “He’s my niece’s bastard, so he’s mine_ . _I’m taking him back off your hands.”

Five small fingers came up to grip Miroku’s hand hard; he squeezed back reassuringly. 

“He’s welcome to stay if he likes.” The monk’s voice was remarkably calm for the urge to throttle the man that burned in his veins. “With his family.” 

“Yeah!” Keiko and Emi chorused. Kohaku nodded, although his side-eye at Miroku meant he was definitely going to require an explanation later. 

An ugly laugh broke from the man’s throat. “He doesn’t have a--”

“Husband? What’s going on?” 

Miroku had experienced many days in his life when his love for Sango overwhelmed all other senses. This moment rivaled many of those times. 

With the air of a practiced warrior, his wife strode towards the village entrance with Mushin on her hip. Her eyes darted over the unwelcome visitor, unimpressed. For his part, he frowned at the way everyone else in the group relaxed in her presence. 

“Mama, this man’s bad!” Emi said, shifting from her stance to run to her mother’s side. 

“He’s trying to make Hiro leave,” Shippo explained. Sango raised an eyebrow at that, before turning her gaze on the young boy. He raised dejected eyes at her, still clinging to his father’s fingers.

“Hiro.” Her lips turned up in a genuine smile, and Miroku almost wanted to cry at its beauty. “Dinner’s almost ready. Do you like fish?” 

After a moment of surprise, he nodded. She reached out her free arm to him, catching Miroku’s eye with a wink. “Good. Come along, then.” 

The boy took her hand as well, linking the two adults; Emi and Keiko cheered, blowing raspberries at Hatsumi’s uncle. Kohaku gripped their shoulders and ushered them away, mixing light praise with scolding about respect for elders. The old man’s mouth dropped open as he was left behind, entirely ignored by Sango herself.

Shippo offered him a grin of false-sympathy.

“Don’t get lost on your way home!” 

* * *

“Sango, are you absolutely--”

“Yes, for the tenth time,” she sighed, pressing a hand against her husband’s mouth. “Hiro can stay.” 

The hand that pulled her fingers away kept its grip to massage them as he argued, “I don’t want you rushing into things if it isn’t what you truly want. Hiro and I can live with Inuyasha and Kagome for as long as--”

“You both can stay here.” Sango took a deep breath, hushing her voice; the children were in the next room, happily eating dinner while Kohaku and Kilala tried to keep them in their seats. “Inuyasha and Kagome will probably get sick of you before too long, anyway."

At his still-troubled gaze, she sighed. "I didn’t expect this to happen, but I didn’t expect most of what we’ve seen together. For a long time, it didn’t seem possible for us to have a family together at all. But...”

“But?” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly. 

Sango smiled. “But our family has always looked different than other families. We have a half-demon who is like a brother to you, and a girl from another time who is like a sister to me. We have Rin and Shippo, who are somewhere in between friends and children we look after. Kohaku is with us again. Whatever it looks like, _ our _family is the most important thing.” 

Miroku wondered how he had been so lucky to end up with such a woman. “Sango, can you really accept Hiro into our home?”

“I can make room for a child who has no mother, who my daughters and son will grow up with, who my friends and family already love. I can’t say that everything will be easy, but--”

“It’s never been that way for us,” Miroku finished. Lacing their fingers together, he pressed his forehead against hers. “My beloved Sango. I do not deserve you.” 

“Don’t say such things,” his wife chided with a chuckle. Then she pulled him back into the kitchen, where his family waited.

**Author's Note:**

> A. Since Miroku has been confirmed to have slept with many of the women he prepositions prior to marrying Sango, statistically there are probably consequences of those trysts out in the world.
> 
> B. This is complete and I do not have the intention of continuing it.
> 
> C. Although the names of Miroku and Sango's children are the same as in my other work The After, this is not part of that story and should not be taken as such. 
> 
> D. Keiko and Emi are references to Yu Yu Hakusho and Your Lie In April, respectively. Hiro is a reference to Fruits Basket. 
> 
> E. Kohaku is 100% going to beat Miroku's ass the first chance he gets. Not because he's a dad out of wedlock, but bc this is how he finds out what Miroku USED to be like, and how he used to treat Kohaku's sister...
> 
> F. The discrepancies in Hiro's story about whether he left the village himself or was kicked out are intentional.


End file.
